Numbers
by Princess Sammi
Summary: Constance and Imogen compare their "lists."


**Disclaimer: I don't own The Worst Witch.**

 **A/N: Two things. Firstly: this is loosely based off a scene in the second series of Gossip Girl, but I have changed a few things about and added some other stuff in. Secondly: in my last one shot, I coined Imogen calling Constance "Cece" as I am fed up calling her "Connie", lol.**

* * *

 **Numbers**

A full past relationship disclosure.

That was what they had both decided upon, but as she scrawled yet another name on the page, Constance Hardbroom was beginning to regret ever having agreed to such a thing. Of all the ideas her girlfriend had ever had – some of which had been brilliant – this one was, by far, the worst. What's more, it was a disaster waiting to happen!

Rather annoyingly, the witch knew that she was not entirely blameless in the turn of events. In fact, technically, it was her fault they were in this situation.

Jealousy.

It was a foreign concept yet it had rose within her, bubbling away furiously like a volcano in the depths of hell, as she had sat and watched the waitress shamelessly flirting with her girlfriend, who had been only too happy to return the attention. When she had questioned her, asking if the woman had been an old friend, the blonde had suddenly gotten very shy, a pink hue creeping into her cheeks as she muttered "something like that," into her soup before quickly turning the situation back on her, teasing her for being jealous.

She denied it, of course, but she was jealous.

Crazy jealous.

It struck her that this was the first time she had ever been jealous in a relationship, proving what she had known for a while: she was head over heels in love.

She was in love.

This list could bring all that crashing down.

Imogen Drill was not completely in the dark about her girlfriend's past. She had finally confessed one evening some months back to an admittedly gobsmacked blonde, but she had been slightly economical with the truth, failing to admit exactly _how_ promiscuous she had really been in her late teens and early twenties…

She had been bored.

She had been lonely.

She had been lost.

Now the truth was staring straight back at her as panic and shame flashed in her eyes. There was no way in hell that she could show this to Imogen but at the same time, she didn't want to lie to her either.

She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

* * *

"Ready?"

The couple were sat at opposite ends of the couch, neither wanted to be the one to go first, but somebody had to. Imogen nervously toyed with the piece of paper in her hand. She too was, in part, beginning to regret ever suggesting this.

"Here," she simply said as she finally bit the bullet and handed over the page.

Constance scanned it. It didn't take her long – there were a dozen or so names and the only one that stuck out at her was "Serge Dubois."

"This is it? This is your whole list?"

The blonde nodded.

Constance bit down tentatively on her lip. Serge's name was not the only thing sticking out at her. Their numbers were not on par.

It wasn't even close.

"Where's yours?"

Reaching into her bag to retrieve her own list, the brunette's fingers fiddled with the pages as she fought a last-minute battle in her head, agonising over what to do.

 _'Just show her. It's Imogen. She'll understand.'_

 _'No, she won't. She'll judge you… like they all used to; remember what Heckitty Broomhead used to say…'_

Her fingers grasped at the small pile before her inner demons emerged as triumphant. "Here," she said as she plucked the top sheet from the pile and handed it to her girlfriend, unable to look her in the eye lest her own eyes betray her lies.

The silence was unbearable.

"You've got "Carol" twice."

"No, actually, there were two," the witch fiddled with the sleeve of her dress as she explained, "One with an "e" and one without."

 _'Why did I ever agree to this?'_

Unsure of what else to say, the blonde nodded, before turning her attention back to list, finally exclaiming, "Oh, here I am" as she reached the end.

The potions teacher's cheeks flushed, making the gym-mistress feel instantly guilty. "I didn't mean it like that, honey. I have to go and get ready for the second years now but I'll see you later." She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door.

"Thank you for telling me the truth."

* * *

Finishing off the crossword as she waited on her girlfriend to get ready, Imogen cursed as her pen cut out on her.

"Cece, have you a spare pen?"

"There's one in my bag," Constance called out from the bathroom where she was fixing her hair.

Digging through the handbag, the blonde quickly located the pen. As she pulled it out, she accidentally caught the edge of some paper, knocking it to the floor as a result. With a sigh, she reached down to pick it up, stopping short when she noticed the various names that were scrawled in her girlfriend's calligraphic style. She wondered for moment what it was all about but it didn't take long for her to twig.

 _'That lying b-'_

"Actually, Imogen," Constance began as she rushed out of the bathroom, having clearly remembered something very important, "don't got in-" she trailed off into silence as she saw Imogen was holding what she had feared her finding.

Neither said a word.

The silence of the room was broken only by the ticking from the clock.

"I found a pen."

"Imogen, I…I can explain."

* * *

They had been going at it for hours now.

Arguing.

"Why did you feel the need to lie? How are we supposed to have anything if we aren't honest with each other?"

"Like it would have made a difference."

"It would have made all the difference!"

"You say that but do you think I didn't see the look on your face when I gave you the edited version of that list? How would you have felt if I had handed you the Yellow Pages!"

"You know, I'm actually not that hungry anymore. I'll see you later." She knew it was a low blow but the blonde could not resist adding, "Try not to sleep with anybody else while I'm gone." With that she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

It was a rather meek Imogen who entered their room later on that night. Her girlfriend was curled up on the bed, a half-empty bottle of white wine sat on the bedside table next to an empty glass.

 _'No doubt consumed on an empty stomach...'_

The blonde could tell she had been crying and she felt awful. She hated when her girlfriend cried.

She hated even more that she had made her cry.

Constance slowly looked up upon hearing Imogen enter, her bloodshot brown eyes meeting with her girlfriend's captivating green ones.

"Imogen, I-I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have. I mean, that I-"she broke off, her emotions overwhelming her as she struggled to find the words to convey how she felt and how sorry she was.

"Hey, it doesn't matter," Imogen said quietly as she sat down on the bed, reaching for a tissue and gently wiping the tears from her love's eyes.

"Where did you go?"

"Just for a walk. I had to clear my head."

The witch nodded in understanding.

Where did they go from here?

"I've made another list. I want you to read it."

Constance shook her head, "I think those lists have caused more than enough trouble, don't you? Let's just forget it."

"Please, Cece?"

Never able to deny her girlfriend, the potions mistress reluctantly took the paper from the blonde, her brow furrowing in confusion as she read the contents.

"What is this?"

"This right here, " Imogen took the paper off her and held it up as she explained, "is the only list I need: your likes, your dislikes, things that make you happy, things that make you sad…how I feel when I am with you."

Wiping away the fresh tears that were now spilling freely from those beautiful brown eyes, her tanned fingers caressed the porcelain cheek as she spoke.

"The past is the past. You're my present. And you're all I want."

* * *

Tanned arms reached out the next day, expecting to feel the warmth of the body next to hers but the bed was empty.

Almost.

Lying on the pillow of her girlfriend's side of the bed was a small sheet of paper. Her eyes were still bleary from sleep but she quickly recognised it to be the list she had written the previous night. With one slight addition.

On the top of the page, bearing the name "Immy" was a tiny heart, along with the words, "you forgot my most important like."

The blonde's face lit up, her smile only growing wider as she read the words at the bottom of the page.

* * *

 ** _"Imogen, you may not be my first. Hopefully you'll be my last, but know this; you're my only."_**

 ** _~ C_**


End file.
